Unwell
by ImSuperSiriusGuys
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a Potions Master, psychiatrist, accomplished Occlumens and Legillimens running a successful private mental and magical health business. Harry Potter is the hero of the wizarding world and Head Auror. When Harry is recommended to a place that can help him with his sleeping disorder, he's in for a surprise. Post-war, slash. HP/DM
1. Chapter 1

**Unwell**

Chapter One

**PLOT**: Harry Potter is no longer the Chosen One. He's just someone who can't sleep and finds himself growing more apathetic by the day. Draco Malfoy is a wizarding psychiatrist who does everything he should but feels like he's merely going through the motions. What happens when Harry ends up with Draco as his healer?

**AUTHORS' NOTE: We are starting a new story! Yay! Enjoy :-) **

* * *

Bright grey eyes popped open, the morning sun shining brightly in from a large, nearby window. Draco Malfoy blinked several times.

He rolled over abruptly, shoving himself off his bed and falling out from under his white comforter. He caught himself by his fingertips and toes, and pushed himself away from the clean, dark hardwood floor.

Mentally, he counted.

_One, two, three, four, five…_

The sunlight filtered in from the window in front of him, reflecting brightly off the white walls.

_Fifty_.

He pushed himself up and walked barefoot across the cold wooden floors into the attached white marble bathroom, moving past the bathtub and turning on the glass encased shower. He slipped off his hunter green, silk pajama pants and stepped in before the cool water had time to heat.

* * *

Blood-shot green eyes opened slowly and then closed again. Harry Potter mumbled unintelligibly, covering his head with his pillow.

"Harry Potter needs to wake up now."

The tired wizard rolled over and let out a surprised cry as he fell to the ground, tangled in his bedsheets. He groaned as he considered staying on the floor and going back to sleep.

"Harry Potter has an appointment with his _friends,_ he asked to be awoken and so he will," the house-elf, Kreacher, snarled the word 'friends' scornfully as he walked over and pulled the heavy black curtains open forcefully, flooding the dark room.

Harry slowly cracked open his eyes, which stung as the light from the window hit them. He winced, holding up a hand in front of his face to block out the sun.

"Master Potter is running late," Kreacher said again, this time directly in front of Harry. The wizard reached up as far as his arm could stretch, fumbling on the top of his nightstand and knocking down his glasses. They clunked angrily against the floor, sliding underneath the table.

Harry grumbled expletives and rolled on to his belly, peering half-blind underneath the piece of furniture. Next to a stained, crumpled shirt sat his glasses. He reached for them, dragging them out from beneath the table and crammed them on his face.

He blinked, eyes strained against the light from behind his smudged lenses. "Thanks Kreacher," he croaked. The house-elf seemed satisfied that his master was awake, and promptly disapparated from the room.

Harry struggled to his feet, muttering grumpily as his tired legs swayed slightly beneath him. He made a mental note never to allow Hermione to schedule breakfast time for him ever, ever again.

He headed toward the bathroom, stepping habitually around a pile of dishes and accidentally stepping on a stray fork. He cursed angrily, hopping away on one foot and then bumping into the wall next to the door of his bathroom.

Harry fumbled for the doorknob as he gingerly touched his injured foot with his other hand before walking slowly into his bathroom with a slight limp. He stumbled into the room, not bothering to turn on the light. The exhausted wizard twisted the knobs to his bathtub, sitting on the rim, until the water pouring out of the faucet was steaming. He stood, pushed down the slacks he hadn't bothered to change out of the night before and slid into the warm water, reclining and closing his eyes as the water filled the bath.

* * *

Draco Malfoy tapped his quill with his right hand against his dark wooden desk, humming to himself, flicking through old paperwork.

Pansy Parkinson popped into the room, a mischievous grin turning up the corners of her red lips. She handed Draco a new folder and the blond looked at her curiously.

"Did you do something?" he asked casually, lifting one eyebrow as he opened the folder and ignored the name. He skimmed to the patient history.

"Nope," she said cheerfully, making a popping sound on the 'p' and turning to head out the door.

_Maybe it's something interesting,_ he thought hopefully, eyes scanning the page.

_Orphaned, war trauma._

_Childhood abuse._

Draco arched an eyebrow.

_Sleeping disorder._

_Anxiety._

_Deep depression._

_Paranoia._

_Phobia of fear._

Draco paused, staring at the paper blankly. "Well, at least they're open," he mused aloud thoughtfully, regarding his possible new patient.

_Repressive behaviors._

_Poor mental coping mechanisms._

_No solid family environment._

_Rebellious, impulsive behavior throughout childhood._

_Denial of problems._

_Anger issues._

The Healer leaned back in his chair, blinking slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. He tapped his quill a few times, deep in thought. He leaned forward once more, reading the last few lines, hastily scrawled in a distinctly different handwriting.

_Possible sexual orientation confusion._

_Fear of people dying and coming back to life._

_In denial that killing Voldemort several times kinda screwed him up in the head. Do horcruxes count?_

Draco flipped over the paper quickly, pinning it to the desk and staring at the neatly printed name at the top of the form, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Harry James Potter."

* * *

Harry walked into the small, crowded café a few minutes late, making his way over to Ron and Hermione, who were already sitting at a booth. His childhood friends didn't notice his entrance as they spoke in hushed tones, leaned over in a seemingly heated conversation.

"-No, no, let me tell him – Harry!" Hermione's familiar chirp of a greeting seemed very uncharacteristically tense as she looked up, flashing him a bright smile.

He offered a small, sleepy smile in response and Ron looked up with a bad attempt at a casual expression. He leaned back, stretching his hands into the air and folding them behind his head.

Hermione elbowed him and shot him a glare.

Harry ignored his friend's odd, yet typical, behavior and slid into the other side of the booth, sighing.

"Well, let's eat!" Ron said loudly, in his voice that said he was trying to hide something.

A pretty waitress walked over to their table to take their order, a small smile on her face. Her eyes settled on Harry, flicked up to the exposed scar on his forehead and then back to his face.

"Are you-?"

"-No," Harry said. He crossed his arms and laid his head on the table.

"We need more time," Hermione cut across the girl.

Ron smiled at her winningly earning him a smack on the shoulder from Hermione.

The waitress gave one last pouting look at Harry, who still had his forehead pressed against the table, and turned, walking off.

"Are you still not sleeping, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly, her tone laced with concern.

"Hm?" Harry asked, pulling his head up sharply. "Oh. Yeah. I mean, no."

Ron frowned. "What happened to you last Saturday, mate? We were worried about you."

"Oh, I decided to stay home and take a nap."

"For Christmas?" Hermione asked in soft concern.

Harry looked taken aback for a moment before nodding, slowly. "So, what did you want to meet for?" he asked, changing the subject.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick, unreadable glance.

"Well, Harry-" Ron started.

"-No, Ron. Well, Harry-"

Harry clenched his jaw. He'd always hated the shouting matches between the two. How they had ever ended up a couple was still a mystery to Harry.

"-That's what I said-!"

A headache throbbed dully in the back of Harry's head, and he repressed a groan.

"-You see Harry," Hermione said, shooting Ron a warning glance before continuing, "we're worried about you."

Harry stood up, glaring forcefully at the two. "Well, don't be," he said shortly.

"Harry, mate," Ron said softly. "We just think you seem a little… down, lately, yeah? We're still here for you," he said.

Hermione smiled at him proudly. "You… you put that really well Ron," she said with a soft smile.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" he asked, offense clear in his tone.

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. He remained standing, and shot a hesitant look at the door.

Hermione noted his anxious glance to the exit and rifled through her bag, quickly pulling out a small silver card before he bolted. "Here, take this," she said hurriedly, sliding the card across the table to him.

Harry picked it up, blinking to clear his fuzzy vision. It was a crisply designed card, with a thinly drawn green snake on the right.

_Occlumence_.

"What's this?" he asked warily, turning the card over and glaring at the snake as it looked up at him.

"George mentioned that you thought your sleeping potions weren't working."

Harry bristled. If he had wanted to tell Hermione that he wouldn't have told George.

"I went there for potions when I was pregnant with Rosie, and well, this place is great," she said.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he mumbled, stuffing the card into his jacket pocket, surely to be forgotten. "I'll firecall, or something, today or tomorrow."

Hermione looked at him knowingly. "Well, don't worry, I already scheduled an appointment for you."

He glared at her.

"In the afternoon," she added quickly, hoping to soften the blow. "It's _just_ a consultation. You need to get more rest."

"I don't know," he said begrudgingly, admitting his hesitance to the idea, and sunk tiredly back into his side of the booth. _It would be nice to sleep a full night. _

"Harry, it's just a Healer's office. They aren't going to _force_ anything on you. I filled out the paperwork for you and everything, anyway. All you've got to do is show up."

"Ah. Thanks," he said unsurely.

"And I helped!" Ron chirped, smiling.

"What?"

* * *

Harry stepped out of the flaring green fire and into the grey, white and silver waiting room. The walls had paintings of snakes on them. Behind a white desk sat none other than Pansy Parkinson.

She looked up and smiled, her teeth looking piercingly white against her red lips. "Can I help you?" she asked cheerfully.

Harry blinked a few times before clearing his throat and nodding. "Yeah, um, hi," he said as he approached the desk. "I'm here for a, um, consultation?" He waited apprehensively for the girl he had attended six years at Hogwarts with to notice him.

"Of course. Name?"

"Harry Potter."

She nodded thoughtfully. "What a nice name," she said, flicking through the files in front of her.

"Oh. Thanks," he said distractedly, confused by the girl and the office._ I thought Hermione said this was a potions shop of sorts. _

"Here we are," she said with a smile. She pushed a form across the desk, spinning it around so it faced him and handed him a quill. "Just need you to sign here," she said with a small smile.

He looked at the quill reluctantly.

"Would you prefer a pen?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said, smiling for the first time.

The paintings on the walls began to rustle suddenly. Harry ignored the snakes as they woke.

"What, quillaphobic?" the one nearest to Harry taunted. The rest of the snakes then began to laugh in raspy, hisses.

Harry jumped, spinning around, eyes wide with horror. He stared at the snake as it looked at him, tilting its head inquisitively.

"Ah, this one understands us!"

"This is even better!" one of the snakes by a bench cheered. "Now we can help him!"

"I don't need help," Harry snapped angrily at the paintings, eyes flashing. The snakes all seemed to giggle at the statement.

Pansy cleared her throat from where she stood behind him. He spun around, blinking. She smiled sadly, extending a ballpoint pen to him and nodding to the paper.

He opened then closed his mouth, thanking her sheepishly. He scrawled down his signature on the line just as Pansy snapped her fingers, startling him.

"Oh, my mistake, I'm so sorry, that was actually – he said to give you _this one_ instead, oh, yes, here it is."

"I'm, I can talk to snakes you know," he said as she handed him another piece of paper.

"Oh, of course you can," she said thoughtfully, her eyes filled with pity.

Harry scrawled his name on the bottom of the new paper, not bothering to look at the contents of the page. "No, really, I'm a parselmouth," he insisted.

"Oh, yes! So am I," she said warmly. She stood from her seat behind the desk, walking around with a clipboard in hand. "Right this way, Mr. Potter."

"You are?" he asked curiously, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Of course."

"Oh, well, I mean, I didn't realize-"

"-Just through this door, Mr. Potter," she said, offering him a final smile. She tucked the clipboard into a bin that was attached to the door, knocked twice and then turned the knob, gesturing him inside with a sweep of her arm.

He peered inside the room. It was white with dark wood floors. This room had no paintings, but many windows.

He walked in hesitantly, unsure if he should shut the door behind him.

There was a dark leather couch and an ebony wooden desk pressed up against a wall. Facing the wall, sat a wizard with platinum blond hair.

He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as the man scribbled notes hastily on his desk.

Harry ruffled his own, already messy hair. He exhaled deeply as he fought the urge to leave. Hermione was right. They were just Healers. They only wanted to help.

_Unless they throw me in St. Mungo's,_ he countered his own thoughts miserably.

No, no, he was just there for potions.

"So, I don't know what's wrong," Harry began hesitantly when the healer didn't turn around. "But, well, I have some sleeping potions. And, they don't seem to be working anymore. I'm thinking I may need something stronger." He cleared his throat uncomfortably when he received no response.

The scribbling stopped and the man bent over the desk sat up straight. "Tell me, do you often confide in people before you've met them face to face?" a familiar drawl inquired as the man spun his chair around.

"_Malfoy_."

"_Potter_."

A small smile lit up the healer's face and a chuckle escaped his lips at the scathing greet that they had shared so often in the past.

* * *

**Please review :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Unwell**

Chapter Two

**PLOT**: Harry Potter is no longer the Chosen One. He's just someone who can't sleep and finds himself growing more apathetic by the day. Draco Malfoy is a wizarding psychiatrist who does everything he should but feels like he's merely going through the motions. What happens when Harry ends up with Draco as his healer?

**DISCLAIMER:** Mwuahahahaha! We own everything, excepting the characters and all that other stuff.

**AUTHORS' NOTE: This is a love story, but they don't realize it yet. Shhhhh... Don't tell them. **

* * *

"_Malfoy_."

"_Potter_," Draco responded, mimicking his tone. A small smile curled up the corners of his mouth at their all too familiar greeting.

Harry turned around and strode angrily towards the door. He let out a surprised grunt as he smashed up against an invisible barrier, blocking his exit through the doorway.

Draco's smile grew as he waited to see the notoriously bad tempered wizard's response. He turned sideways, rearranging some papers on his desk.

Harry took a step back and pulled out his wand to blast the force field apart. Almost immediately the wand flew from his hand, flipping backwards in the air over his head and landing directly into Draco's lap.

Harry let out an enraged roar, spinning around and stalking towards a calm Draco. The amused healer picked up the wand and held it out, offering it to the wizard and nodding in an encouraging manner. Harry grabbed his wand, his eyes narrowed in a suspicious fashion. Draco lifted a hand, palm up, motioning at the door, offering him another go at his escape.

The angry wizard clenched his jaw, turned and lifted his wand once more at the doorway.

"Aghhhh!" Harry spun around to see Draco holding his wand once more between his hands and smiling at him.

"Would you care to try again, Harry?"

"How are you doing that?" Harry demanded. He reached forward, snatching his wand from the Healer's hands.

"Safety measures. Please, take a seat Harry," he said.

"I've changed my mind, I don't need the potions," Harry said shortly. He turned toward the door and began to leave, thinking he could now pass, only to walk face first into the force field once again.

"Fantastic, I wasn't going to give them to you anyway," he said cheerfully. He gestured to the sofa. "Sit, please."

Harry stared at the doorway, then back at his wand, as if contemplating his options. Draco reached over to his desk and retrieved a notepad and pen, writing something down thoughtfully.

"No, if you're not willing to give me the potions then we've nothing more to talk about. I'll be going now," he said shortly.

"It's just a fifteen minute consultation. Don't you have any questions about your treatment plan for the next six weeks?"

"Treatment plan?" Harry deadpanned.

"Yes, the one mentioned in the contract." He looked at the blank-faced man curiously. "The one you just signed? In the lobby? Five minutes ago?"

Harry blinked.

"You did read it, _right_?" Draco asked, arching one eyebrow.

Harry scratched his nose in thought, having calmed down some in his confusion. "Oh, well. You see. I just assumed it was a basic, err, release form. And, and _the paintings_- you have _mean_ paintings!" the still-exhausted wizard finished with a shout.

Draco opened and then closed his mouth, barely containing a scathing retort. "I have no human paintings in the lobby, Harry," he said in a very patient tone.

"I'M A PARSELMOUTH AND YOU BOTH, BOTH OF YOU KNOW THAT, WE WENT TO SCHOOL TOGETHER FOR SIX YEARS! AND, AND STOP CALLING ME HARRY!" Harry roared, waving his wand spastically in the air. The lights flickered a bit.

Draco paused, nodding thoughtfully. He looked up at the light, then back to the wizard. "I always call my therapy patients by their first names, I find it helps speed the bonding process."

Harry looked as if he was going to start shouting again before pausing, a puzzled expression on his features. "_Therapy_?" he asked incredulously. "Six weeks? What are you on about?"

Draco sighed. "You signed a contract, just about ten minutes ago, agreeing to six weeks of cognitive behavioral therapy."

He tapped a paper sitting on his desk, nodding.

"Well, _clearly_, that was an accident. We can just void the contract now, and both go on with our lives," Harry said firmly.

"I write up the contracts for a reason, Harry-"

"-I swear, if you call me that one more time-"

"-If my patients were to simply back out of a contract, then I wouldn't be able to help them properly. It would look bad for me personally, and on my business, if patients were to simply walk out before their recovery is complete. Then, what if they got worse, hm? How does it look on me to have people walking out and becoming _more_ unstable because of their own ignorant decisions? Of course, if you hadn't signed the contract, it'd be a completely different matter-"

"-Let me see that contract," Harry snapped, lunging forward. Draco stood up, blocking his path to the desk.

"That's my copy. You will get yours by owl in 8-10 weeks."

"But there are only six sessions!"

"There's a lot of processing." Draco sniffed. "Especially for the high risk patient contract. It goes through the ministry."

Harry gaped. "_High risk_?" He curled his hands into fists.

Draco scooted back a bit, still smiling.

Harry clenched his jaw and spoke in a tightly restrained voice, attempting to prove his point, "I am _not_ high risk."

"That's not your call to make I'm afraid," he said, frowning sympathetically and sitting back down. "As a Healer, it's my job to be honest when stating my opinion on the current state of my patients wellbeing, even when it isn't what they want to hear." He scooted his chair away, picking up a folder and opening it up.

He gestured to the couch. "Now please, _do_ take a seat," he said very seriously.

"_You_ don't tell me what to do. And I'm _not_ your patient. You can't keep me here against my will. I swear if this is some plot-" Harry said furiously, bloodshot eyes glaring at the blond.

"Ah yes, my plot. Make sure you decide you need a new sleeping potion, check. Visit a psychiatry center, in specific the one I work with, also check. Have you sign a contract you don't read and offer to help you. Check and check. I am pretty diabolical. The rude talking snake paintings were a nice touch, don't you think?" he drawled sarcastically, looking at the clock to see they had been talking for twenty-five minutes, before glancing back down at his papers. _I wonder how long it will take him to realize the shield is down._

Harry pushed his lips together tightly, his face turning red as he held himself back. "I'm glad you find me so amusing. However, I will _not_ be attending the sessions," he said in a quiet voice.

Draco flicked through the papers. "Actually, you will. It's in the contract," he said casually, not looking away from his work.

Harry resisted yelling. "There's nothing wrong with me. I don't _need_ sessions. I'm just having some trouble sleeping," he tried to reason calmly with the wizard, hoping to get out of the visits.

"Why do you think you haven't you been able to sleep, Harry?" Draco asked nonchalantly.

Harry opened his mouth to answer before catching himself. "Oh no! I'm not telling you _anything_!" he roared, forgetting to keep his calm as his anger surged once more.

"Why not?"

"Draco?" a soft voice interrupted.

Draco looked away from Harry, peering around him to see Pansy leaning in the doorway, a huge smile on her face, her eyes darting speculatively between the two wizards.

"Hm?" he asked curiously. Harry wheeled around, glaring at the witch accusingly.

"Going home now, boss," she said cheerfully. "Have a nice night," she said. She turned slightly and smiled warmly at the other wizard in the room. "You too, Harry."

Harry stood still for a moment as he tried to find something to be insulted about in her words.

"Wait a minute, how did she get through the barrier?"

"Our appointment has been over for fifteen minutes now, Harry." Draco stood, gathering up his own jacket and straightening the papers on his desk.

Harry let out a snarl, stomping furiously toward the exit, mumbling as he passed Pansy. "I _won't_ be coming back!" he shouted on his way out.

Draco smiled to himself as the sound of the floo roared in the other room. "See you tomorrow, Harry," he said with a smirk.

* * *

Harry entered 12 Grimmauld Place, slamming the door shut behind him. He walked down the long hallway, towards the kitchen.

"Ah, Harry, how was your appointment?" the painting of Sirius Black asked in an up-beat voice as Harry angrily shoved the dishes and papers off the table in front of him, letting out an angry cry.

"Not too well, then?" the painting persisted.

"Harry, do you want to talk about it?" Remus Lupin asked, looking concerned as he leaned on their shared frame.

"No! I don't want to bloody talk about anything!" Harry left the kitchen, stomping up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door shut.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, listening to the muffled loud bangs and curses above their head.

"Guess not," Sirius said.

"-'A sleeping potion' he said! 'They're great' she said! I'm going to kill them! First him and then her!"

"I think he'll be fine," Sirius added when he noticed Remus's worried look.

* * *

Draco stepped out of the fireplace at Malfoy Manor. The wizard brushed the imagined soot off of his shoulders. He walked out of the sitting room and towards his home office, carrying a stack of files under his arm.

He placed the papers on his desk, an exact replica of the one at his work, sitting down and opening the top file. _Harry Potter._ The platinum blond let out a laugh, shaking his head before closing it and picking up the next file.

A sharp meow cut through his train of thought. A cat jumped up on to his desk, green eyes staring intently at the files he was busying himself with. In her mouth, she held a small stuffed mouse. She promptly dropped it on the desk, interested in whatever had distracted the wizard.

He sighed, shifting his papers away. His purring cat pounced on the paper, taking the corner into her mouth and chewing on it.

"No," he corrected, pulling the paper out from between her teeth. She tilted her head at him and slowly extended her paw placing it on his face, claws outstretched and touching his cheek very gently. He smiled, picked up her toy and tossed it over his shoulder before starting back on his work.

* * *

**Ahh, young love! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Unwell**

Chapter Three

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** We own nothing. Though we are working on becoming the co-leaders to a murder of crows through consistent saltine cracker feedings. We will be kind to our crow subjects... At first. Yes. Yes. Yes.

**AUTHORS' NOTE: This is a love story, but they STILL don't realize it. Shhhhh... They're in denial. **

**Oh and the picture for this story will be explained at a later date. It's important. **

* * *

_A flash of green light raced directly toward Harry. The beam of light warped before it hit him, twisting into the horrible face of Nagini. A hissing rang in his ears. She pulled back her green head, fangs flashing as she lunged forward-_

Harry shot up with a shuddering gasp, grabbing the blankets around him tight. His entire body was covered in a cold sweat, chills running down his spine as he gasped for breath.

The nauseatingly bright green from his night terror was gone. As was the horrible hissing sound. He sat alone in the blackened bedroom of 12 Grimmauld Place, shaking slightly. The only sound was the rapid pounding of his own pulse.

He struggled to calm his racing heartbeat and shaky breathing, reaching a trembling hand over to his nightstand in the dark. He knocked over the open vial of dreamless sleep potion, and it smashed angrily on to the wooden floor.

Harry cursed breathlessly, panic gripping and twisting his insides. He yanked open the bedside table's drawer, feeling around desperately.

"I have some left, I know I put it in here," he whispered urgently to reassure himself as he fumbled half blind through the contents of the drawer. His hands made contact with a cool vial of potion, and he let out a quivering sigh of relief, his stomach unknotting.

He pulled the vial out, yanking out the stopper and downing half it, setting it back on the nightstand when he was done. He laid back down slowly, his breathing and heart rate slowing within mere seconds.

Harry exhaled slowly, letting his eyes drift closed as his eyelids became very heavy.

Darkness encompassed him once more.

* * *

"Ow." Harry's own voice poked at his consciousness.

A sharp peck stung the top of his head.

"Ow, ow. Ow! Stop that!" Harry swatted at the eagle owl that was repeatedly pecking at his skull.

The owl hooted angrily and nipped his finger, forcing out a yelp from the half-sleeping wizard. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position reluctantly, his blankets falling around his waist as he took the letter from the indignant owl.

"Now, get out!" he said with a mean look, waving the bird away. The owl glared at him before spreading its large wings and flying out his bedroom window, which was surprisingly open and letting in an obscene amount of sunlight.

Harry opened the letter, tired eyes squinted. Written at the top of the thick parchment inside was the word 'Occlumence' in a neat form of calligraphy. His eyes narrowed and he scowled in a stubborn fashion.

"I think not," he said after only a moment's pause, not bothering to read more and picking up his wand from his nightstand.

"_Incendio_."

* * *

Harry walked into the kitchen shirtless and still in his pajama pants, the early morning sun shined brightly through the window over the sink. _What happened to the curtains_? he mused grumpily. The wizard looked around for his house-elf.

"Kreacher?"

"Master Potter called?" Harry turned to see the old house-elf standing in the doorway and holding a piece of parchment tightly in his little hands. His face was unreadable, but he was clearly taken by some strong emotion.

"What is that?" Harry asked curiously.

"It came by Owl today for Kreacher," he said, the elf shook, whether due to excitement or horror was unclear to the wizard.

"Oh," Harry said finally, looking around the kitchen in a daze. He vaguely recalled waking in the middle of the night, despite the large dosage of potion he had taken afterward. He felt decidedly unrested, something he had always noted with taking the sleepless potion, but he preferred it over the nightmares.

_Stupid Malfoy not prescribing me a new potion. I can't work like this. What am I going to do when my vacation is up next week_?

"It's from Master Malfoy," Kreacher volunteered, jerking the wizard from his thoughts. "He sent a list of rules for the house and appointment schedule for your treatment," he said, a smile on his lips.

Harry frowned. "Rules?" Harry reached for the paper, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"No, this is for Kreacher. Not Master Potter. Master Potter has his own copy," the house elf said in a high-pitched voice, stepping back a few steps and hiding the parchment behind his back.

Harry sighed. "Give me the paper, Kreacher," he ordered. The elf let out an infuriated cry and handed the parchment to the wizard, arm trembling, before stalking to the cupboard and pulling out dishes, clanging them angrily as he did. He made sure to only do this to the new dishes Harry had bought a few months back.

"Natural light, fresh air, raw fruit and vegetables, no caffeine?" Harry threw down the list angrily onto the table, teeth gritting in rage. "He's _mad_! There is no way I am going to go along with this!" he fumed, walking over to the counter to make himself some coffee.

"Kreacher," Harry growled suddenly, the tired shadows under his green eyes making his furious glare appear much darker than it normally would.

"Yes, _Master Potter_?" the elf asked snidely, pulling out a large knife. The elf began to dice up an onion menacingly, muttering under his breath.

_"Where_ is the coffee?" Harry asked point blank, already guessing the answer but hoping he was wrong. When the house elf didn't answer immediately, he motioned to the empty canister.

"Kreacher poured it out like he was told," the elf sneered as he picked up a green pepper and began to chop it with the same gusto.

"I did not tell you to do that," Harry said in a quiet voice.

"Yes, Master Potter _did_. Or Kreacher would not have done it," he said in a patronizing tone. He offered Harry a sarcastic smile.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. _How did Malfoy manage that_? "Well, what am I supposed to drink?" he spat finally, looking around the kitchen in disgust.

Kreacher handed the wizard a green smoothie-like drink with tiny black seeds floating in it. "For Master Potter," he answered scathingly, still obviously upset about losing his letter.

Harry lifted the cup to his face, sniffing at it experimentally. "Ugh," he groaned as the smell turned his stomach. He set the full glass on the counter, turned, and walked out of the kitchen.

"Where is Master Potter going? Master Potter must drink the smelly drink!" Harry closed the door to his room, ignoring the elf as he changed his clothes in a hurry.

* * *

Draco ran mechanically through the trails on his property, his measured breaths coming out in white puffs as it mixed with the chilled morning air. He jumped over the trunk of a small fallen tree, making a mental note to have it cleared. He ran through the shallow icy brook, the cold water seeping into his trainers going unnoticed. He increased his speed, sweating as he ran up the hill to Malfoy Manor, only stopping when he reached the front door to push it open.

His heart rate was only mildly increased, his breathing evening out as he made his way through the manor and was normal once more as he walked through the archway to his kitchen.

The kitchen had white marble flooring, dark green cabinets and light grey granite countertops. A large island stood in the center, with black barstools pushed under it on one side. The tall blond cast a cleansing charm on himself before walking around the large kitchen, pulling out cooking ingredients and setting up dishes for himself.

Draco sat down and ate his veggie omelette in silence as he read through his post. He opened a letter, setting it back down when he realized it was an invitation to a party. He flipped through the letters, not reading them. _Party invite, party invite, friend from Hogwarts, wedding invite, baby shower, a brunch invitation. Boring_. He pushed the papers aside and sipped his chai latte as he mentally went over his patients for the day. He chewed thoughtfully on a chia seed, and a smile crept up his lips as he guessed his first patient of the day's reaction when he showed up.

His cat, Neytiri, meowed at him from the floor. Draco smiled down at the feline, who was clearly fighting the urge to jump onto the counter. The cat meowed again, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. She dropped to the floor, rolled onto her back and looked up at him with large green eyes, her paws tucked under her chin in a decidedly canine fashion. Draco chuckled.

"All right, I'll feed you," he said defeatedly, going against his no begging policy. He stood, picking up his dishes and setting them in the sink for the elves to clean later. He picked up the pan, eyeing the extra food before dumping it in the garbage.

Draco walked out of the kitchen to the sounds of his cat eating loudly and made his way to his room to prepare for the day, an unconscious bounce to his step.

* * *

"Harry, great to see you mate! You're up early!" Ron greeted his friend happily as Harry walked out of the fireplace and into his house. Harry grunted in response, walking past him and toward his kitchen.

"Hey, that's my coffee," Ron said from the doorway as he watched his best friend pick up his favorite mug and take an angry gulp, scowling.

"Yes, well I'm not _allowed_ caffeine in my house thanks to you," he muttered, picking up a scone off a plate and taking a bite in between his drinks of the steaming liquid.

"And that's my pumpkin scone!" Ron cried out in distress. "It was the last one," he added quietly as Harry took another large bite, chewing angrily. Ron's shoulders fell, and he heaved a deep sigh. Harry narrowed his eyes at the other man, taking a vicious bite of the pastry as he plotted his best friend's demise.

"Ron, who are you talking to?"

Hermione walked into the kitchen, holding a familiar piece of parchment in her hands. "Oh, Harry. You're up early," she said, parroting her husband's sentiment and hiding the paper behind her back quickly.

Harry's eyes narrowed at her as he chewed.

"I have to go though, kids need a bath when they wake and-"

"-What's that behind your back, Hermione?" Harry asked in an unnervingly calm voice, taking a small sip Ron's coffee.

"Oh, this?" the witch asked, no longer hiding the paper. "It's, it's _nothing_, just a grocery list is all," she said calmly, putting the paper in a drawer and casting a silent spell on the door afterwards. She looked up and smiled warmly. "Could I get you something. No added sugar juice, maybe?"

Harry shook his head slowly, not saying anything.

Ron and Hermione exchanged guilty looks. Ron cleared his throat. Hermione spoke up, "Harry, you seem upset," she said with gentle concern.

Harry nodded, eyes drifting closed as he did so.

Ron spoke next, "We were only trying to help, Mate. You've been so down lately-"

"-_Help_?" Harry spat, cutting him off. "Help! I don't-" Harry shouted angrily, green eyes flashing as he slammed down his mug. Before he could finish his sentence however, he gave a small 'pop' and promptly disappeared.

Ron and Hermione let out simultaneous gasps of shock.

"What happened?"

"-NEED help!" Harry yelled and then froze. He looked around, disoriented. He was no longer standing in Ron and Hermione's kitchen. Instead, he found himself standing in a rather noisy lobby filled with excited hisses.

"Yes, he definitely does." The hissed words were followed by raspy laughs.

_No_. Harry turned, his eyes flashing angrily as the snake paintings slithered closer in excitement.

"He's past the denial stage. That was fast," a large green viper hissed mockingly, eyes lit with amusement.

"The dense ones are much more malleable," a small black and yellow striped snake piped in, her voice decidedly more feminine. A snake to her right nodded in agreement.

Harry opened his mouth to speak when a tinkling voice interrupted him.

"Mr. Potter, so good to see you made your appointment," Pansy greeted from behind her desk, smiling warmly, her tone bubbly as she filed some papers.

Harry frowned. He was at the Occlumence building. He ignored the round of hissed sniggers and walked up to the desk, not sure of what to say. "Yes, well, I didn't mean to actually," he admitted without shame.

The receptionist lifted a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "I see. Well, happy accident then," she responded lightly, handing him a sheet of parchment.

Harry took the offered sheet, looking at it suspiciously. It was a copy of the paper he had burned that morning.

"Thought you might need that," she said in an airy voice, standing up and walking around the desk. "Please, follow me."

Harry eyed the fireplace, considering leaving, his eyes widened when it disappeared, replacing it was a wall of running water. He closed his eyes and spun in a circle, thinking of his friends' house. _Please work,_ he thought miserably.

"Coming?" Harry groaned at Pansy's voice and opened his eyes slowly.

He turned and followed the witch to the room in the back begrudgingly.

* * *

"Excited to get started, Harry?" Draco asked, his back facing the wizard as he finished a note. The blond turned his chair around slowly, smiling as he took in the clearly enraged wizard.

"_You_!" he said accusingly, pointing a finger in the psychiatrist's direction.

"Yes, have a seat, Harry."

"How did you do all of that!" the still-standing wizard demanded in exasperation. Draco took in his body language. Dark shadows under his eyes, hair mussed, clothes wrinkled but shoulders held back and chin up as he glared daggers at the blond. He need leverage if he was going to get anything out of the wizard, a bargaining chip.

"It was in the contract," Draco said with a sigh. "I'll let you read over my copy the last few minutes if you'll just sit down," he offered compromisingly, nodding to the couch.

Harry frowned. "All I have to do is _sit down_, and you'll let me see the contract?" he asked, repeating Draco's offer suspiciously, glancing from the sofa and back to the other man very quickly. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, Harry" Draco said simply, motioning to the couch again. He offered a small, encouraging smile.

Harry walked over to the couch woodenly and sat down. He stared at the blond.

Draco stared back.

"Now what?" Harry asked finally, his tone clipped.

The healer held back a victorious smile. "Now, I'd like to tell you what these visits will entail. If that is all right with you," he answered and then waited patiently for him to respond.

Harry sat quietly as he thought. _What's the worst that could happen? It's just five more appointments_. "All right," he said slowly, stiff shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Splendid. Now, I will be implementing several different methods throughout your treatment. We will have pensieve, legilimens and straight-out psychotherapy sessions and possibly occlumency training if needed. I will also be implementing electro-convulsive shock therapy for the first hour of each session, of course."

Harry nodded in acceptance before his mind had fully processed the healer's words. "Wait, _what_?" He gaped openly, green eyes rounding in horror. "_Electro_-"

Draco started laughing, cutting off the other wizard's protests and held up his hands. "That was just a joke, Harry. Trying to lighten the mood a bit."

Harry gaped at the blond who was displaying an unusually genuine smile. _Draco told a joke_? he thought, frowning. He couldn't say he could personally recall any jokes told by Draco that were not at his, Ron's or Hermione's expense.

A surprised laugh escaped Harry's lips, one side of his mouth turning up into a grin before he quickly schooled his features.

Draco smiled back, curiously noting to himself how much better the wizard had looked when he smiled.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

* * *

**:-)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** We own nothing.

**AUTHORS' NOTE: Enjoy!**

* * *

"Tell me about your childhood, Harry."

"I'd rather not."

"Why is that?" Draco asked patiently as he watched the black-haired wizard shift uncomfortably in his seat on the large, dark grey couch.

"There's not much to tell, really," Harry answered, an air of stress belying his words as he ran an agitated hand through his unruly locks.

"You don't remember it?" Draco hedged, trying to get more out of the wizard. He observed Harry move to stand up but stop before he had lifted an inch off the couch and drop back down. _He really wants to read the contract. Maybe I can push a little more_, the healer calculated.

"Oh no, I _definitely_ remember it," Harry finally responded, a bitter laugh accompanying his words unconsciously. He shifted back, crossed his legs, uncrossed them and then crossed his arms over his chest. _Closed body language, perhaps a slightly different approach is needed._

"How does it make you feel when you think of your childhood?" Draco sat quietly.

"Hmmm."_  
_

"Would you prefer to talk about something else, Harry?" Draco asked, offering the wizard control of the conversation.

"I don't feel comfortable talking to you," Harry said, understating his level of discomfort.

"Why's that?" the healer asked, expecting any of a multitude of answers to be given. He knew however the one Harry gave first would most likely prove to be the most pertinent.

"Really?" Harry looked up, meeting Draco's eyes in a challenging manner. The healer fought the urge to rise to the bait and remained passive.

"I could guess, but it's better if you just tell me."

"Hmmm."

"What do you feel comfortable talking about?" Harry looked down at his clasped hands, not answering.

Draco shifted in his seat. "You know, Harry, everything you say here is completely private." Harry didn't look up.

Draco sat quietly. He had assumed this would be a problem, more so than with any of his past or present patients. He and Harry had been notoriously at odds in the past. He leaned forward in his seat as he thought to himself.

"Would you like to ask me some questions first, Harry?"

Harry looked up slowly, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'm sorry?" He asked, thinking he had misheard.

Draco stood up, smoothing his designer slacks, and adjusted his silk tie. "You can ask me whatever you'd like," he motioned to his chair. "We can switch."

Harry considered the offer. He stood up slowly, nodding his head. He really didn't want to sit on the couch any longer than he had to. Draco stood as Harry walked over to his chair and sat down cautiously as if he expected it to be some sort of trap.

Draco laid down on the couch and stared up at the white ceiling, making himself more comfortable. "Shoot."

Harry studied the Slytherin suspiciously. _This has to be a trick._

Draco took in a deep breath and placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. "Why do you want to help me?"

"It's my job."

"Why me?"

"You came to me."

"I didn't. Hermione and Ron made the appointment. I didn't..." Harry drifted off when he realized he was saying more than he had planned.

"Ah, that explains a lot."

"What does that mean?"

"Your surprise. Your frequent outbursts. Refusal for care. Belligerent atti-"

"-I get it. Why would you accept me as a patient?"

"You need help."

"I don't _need_ help."

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"_You hate me_."

"No I don't."

"Yes_, you do_."

"Nope."

"Okay, why were you always so terrible to me then?" Harry felt his anger surge as he remembered all the times he and the Slytherin had interacted.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought. Why had he been so mean? There had been many reasons, but what had started it? _Ah yes_. "Because you refused my offer of friendship."

"What? I don't remember that."

Draco laughed. _Of course he doesn't_. "Well, you did. I asked you to be my friend on the way to Hogwarts on the train, our first year. You said no and so I tried to steal your chocolate."

"Wait, I do remember that. You meant that? You were so mean about it though."

Draco shrugged his shoulders again. "I was eleven."

"So, you hated me because I wouldn't be your friend?"

"Pretty much. I was a very spoiled kid."

Harry sat quietly for a minute. "Why did you follow me around all the time?"

"Curiosity."

Harry frowned. "Curiosity?"

Draco turned his head, looking at Harry, his grey eyes piercing. "Yes, I'm a terribly curious person. Hence my job," he said, motioning with his hand at the office.

Harry cleared his throat. At a loss for more questions. He looked away, finding himself uncomfortable under the healer's unwavering gaze. "Oh."

"I'm not trying to trick you. You know that, right?" Draco asked quietly. He could sense the other wizard's opinion swaying. He held his breath, hoping it would topple in his favor.

"I'd like to see the contract now," Harry answered instead.

Draco sighed. _So close_. "Of course." He pushed himself up and smoothed his hair down before he stood up and walked over to his desk.

"Here, have at it." Draco held out the agreement, predicting an abrupt end to their somewhat subdued meeting.

Harry reached out for the parchment hesitantly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what he had signed after the fact. His eyes began to scan the agreement.

_Patient must attend all appointments set forth by Healer. If Patient is not on premises within ten minutes of scheduled appointment, Patient shall be transferred via forced apparition. Healer agrees to abide by all Healer/Patient privacy laws. Patient agrees to all lifestyle rules and restrictions set forth by Healer and shall be acknowledged as patient's own rules for enforcement regarding house elves. Healer has the right to add sessions and to amend list of restrictions or rules as necessary. Contract is fully binding at signing of both parties._

Harry stopped reading, not finishing the last few lines. His hands began to shake. _I'm completely at his whims._ He stood up, handing the contract back, his jaw clenching tightly as he glared at the taller man in front of him.

"It's not as bad as it looks. It's here for your protection," Draco insisted, placing the contract back in the drawer. His body was relaxed despite the outburst he was anticipating.

"My protection," Harry repeated in a calm voice. He felt his thoughts slipping away from him as he held himself completely still.

Draco eyed the wizard who looked like he would self-combust if possible. _Repression tendencies with perceived loss of control. I'm assuming Granger was the first handwriting,_ he thought, impressed by her evaluation. He would need to analyze Harry's folder again with the new information that had come to light.

"Yes, I understand if you don't quite believe what I tell you. But, I hope with time-"

"-I'll be going now, if we are finished here," Harry said, cutting off the other wizard, his voice still calm.

"Of course," Draco motioned to the door, lowering the force field with a subtle wave.

Harry walked woodenly towards the exit. He turned, his eyes dancing with fury. "I guess I'll see you next week, _Healer Malfoy_," he said in a tone that lead Draco to believe he would be doing everything in his power to do the exact opposite. The wizard turned and reached out a hand, checking for the shield in the doorway, before walking out of the room.

Draco listened to the wizard hiss angrily at his paintings in the lobby. He had a feeling he would see him before then.

* * *

Harry walked into his house, ignoring the painting of his godfather and ex-professor as he went immediately to his room, forgoing the unappetizing dinner he had smelled cooking upon his entrance.

The wizard shut the door, locking it with his wand. He slammed the window shut by his bed and pulled the drapes shut with a jerk. "Stupid Malfoy." The exhausted wizard pulled off his jacket and then his shirt, dropping it on the floor before undoing his slacks and letting them drop unceremoniously as well.

"Binding contract my arse," he muttered, walking over to his chest of drawers and pulling out a pair of flannel pajama pants Hermione and Ron had gotten him for Christmas. He pulled them on guiltily. _I'll have to get them something. And the kids. I hope they weren't too disappointed. I didn't mean to forget._

Harry walked into the bathroom and turned on the warm tap. He looked into the mirror and frowned. The circles were only getting darker under his eyes and he looked pale. _I'm fine_, he insisted to himself as he leaned over and splashed warm water on his face repeatedly. _I just need some rest is all._

Harry turned off the water and reached for a hand towel. He rubbed his face with the soft cloth vigorously, trying to erase the unpleasant emotions from his mind. He dropped the towel in the sink and walked back into his room, his eyes glaring at the bed that stood ominously in the center of his room. He tried to keep his breathing slow and steady. He hadn't been able to procure any more sleeping potion.

_Madame Pomfrey looked at Harry sadly. "I'm sorry Harry. I can't prescribe you dreamless sleep potion since you're not a student here any longer. Perhaps you could try finding a new healer. I hear that Occlumence is a great place to go if you are having problems."_

Harry growled at the memory. He didn't _need _the potion that badly anyway, and he definitely wasn't having problems. He walked over to the bed, forcing down the anxiety squeezing at his chest and climbed into his bed. He picked up the last of the potion he had and drank the entire contents.

* * *

_"Harry who? Oh, Harry Potter?" Harry's mother said with a look of complete disgust on her face. She turned to his dad. The older man glared at him. "We don't need you anymore. Voldemort is dead," he said before turning away, Harry's mom following suit. Harry cried out for them as they walked away, but they disappeared suddenly and Harry found himself in a dark cemetery._

_"Harry, is that you?" Harry spun around to see Sirius Black staring at him, his body decaying as he stood by his own grave._

_"Sirius. Wh-what are you doing here?" Harry asked._

_"Oh, I just came to see Bellatrix," his godfather said, as he looked over the boy's shoulder. "Ah, there she is."_

_"Well if it isn't ickle Harry Potter," Bellatrix appeared in front of Harry. The wizard gasped and pulled out his wand, but when he lifted it to use against her it flew out of his hand._

_"You don't need this, Harry." Sirius held his wand and stared at him with intense grey eyes. Suddenly everything around the silver orbs morphed and he found himself staring at Draco Malfoy. Harry felt a surge of relief._

_"Draco. I-"_

_The healer standing beside Bellatrix smiled darkly and cut him off. "-Trust me, Harry. I'm here to help you." He began to laugh, Bellatrix joining him, and they both raised their wand on him. __Crucio._ Matching flashes of red light shot out of their wands and hit Harry in the chest. 

* * *

"Ahh!" Harry cried out as his eyes shot open. He sat up quickly, pulling on his glasses, searching desperately for more potion. He picked up the empty vial. _No. No. No. I'm out_, he remembered, his breathing began to hitch as he fought to calm himself down but failing. The objects in the room began to shake as his magic surged alongside his growing panic, and Harry felt a pull in his stomach.

Harry looked around wildly. He heard a cry of surprise, and a loud thump immediately followed the noise.

"Where am I? Where am I?" Harry was no longer on his own bed but instead sat on a white bed in a large, unlit room. The disoriented wizard vaguely noted a groan, and he started when a head of platinum hair appeared from the side of the bed.

"Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened. Draco Malfoy stood up slowly, wearing only a pair of silk pajamas, and looked decidedly unhappy with his presence.

* * *

**:-)**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** We own nothing.

**AUTHORS' NOTE: Two updates in less than 24 hours?! Yes, please review. :-)**

* * *

Thoughts swam madly through Harry's mind, and he blurted out the most pressing question. "Is this your bed?"

"Get out of it," Draco growled, his hands on his pale hips.

"How did I end up here?" Harry asked, ignoring the irate wizard's demand.

Draco's anger faltered. "You've got to be joking," he said, his voice one of utter disbelief.

Harry felt himself bristle at the tone. "I don't know what you're talking about," he answered, scooting back and leaning against the dark headboard stubbornly.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the movement. "It. Was. In. The contract, _Potter_," he hissed his name, as he motioned with both of his hands for the wizard to remove himself from his bed.

Harry started to oblige, scooting toward the edge of the bed, only to stop as something occurred to him. "Explain yourself _first_," he said, feeling spiteful.

Draco let out an angry noise before climbing onto the bed much to Harry's horror. Still, the dark-haired wizard refused to move. "Fine, it was agreed upon that if you at any point began to lose control you would be apparated to a safe location."

"And that is your bed?"

"_No_. It's wherever I am. You see, Potter, most - no, all - of my patients end up in St. Mungo's when this type of thing happens. But, I was stupidly concerned it would look _bad_ on you, being Harry Freaking Potter and Head Auror, if you were to be under observation at St. Mungo's for twenty-four hours!" Draco jerked the blankets as he tried to cover up despite Harry sitting on top of the comforter. "However, I did not assume you would be poofing into my bed in the middle of the night!"

"First of all, I did not _poof_! Secondly, I _told_ you I had night terrors, and this would never have happened had you prescribed me a different dreamless sleep potion!" Harry shouted back, matching the blond's tone.

Draco scoffed, "Yes, because all your fucking issues would be resolved if I'd just prescribe you an _addictive potion_ to block your subconscious from communicating with your bloody stubborn, pig-headed conscious mind that is bent-set on stupidly ignoring all your problems!"

Harry gaped at the wizard beside him on the bed, who was breathing heavily, his bare chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath after his rant. "You, you can't talk to me like that. You're my _healer_!"

Draco put his hands up to his face and began laughing into them in frustration. "Of course. That's what you _would_ draw from all that! And, I'm _not_ your healer right now! I'm just your bloody baby-sitter! Now, _get out_!" Draco yelled, finding his anger growing the longer the wizard stayed in his bed.

Harry pushed himself off, holding back a grimace as his feet made contact with the frigid floor. He spun in a circle, attempting to apparate home, only to find himself staring at Draco, who had one blond eyebrow raised.

"_Really_, Potter?"

_Twenty-four hours..._ The crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the bedroom began to clink ominously before Harry felt a familiar pull.

"Ahh!" Harry lost his footing as the hardwood floor below him was replaced with a soft bed, and he fell over onto Draco's lower half.

Draco let out a cry and tried to roll away, falling out of his bed for the second time since Harry's arrival.

Harry blinked.

"_Potter_!"

Harry scooted over to the edge and looked down at the blond wizard, lying on his back. He didn't move to stand up. Harry held back a smile as the man on the floor quietly glared up at him.

"I'm sorry _Draco_, but trust me, this is for my protection," he said scathingly.

* * *

Harry looked around the guest suite one of the house-elves had shown him to for the night. The room had an oversized four-poster bed in the center, the comforter was white, like Draco's, and all the woodwork was a brushed bronze color. The floors were a dark shade, there was also a deep red-colored couch off to the side and a few like-colored accents throughout the space.

Harry walked around the low-lit room, stopping to peer through full-length french glass doors. There was a stone patio outside of it which looked out on the dark expansive grounds. Harry shivered as he felt a chill seep through the thin glass.

"It's cold in here. How does Malfoy stand it?" he muttered to himself. Almost immediately the fireplace lit, a warm fire crackling readily in the hearth. Harry walked over to the couch placed in front of the fire and sat down, the arrangement oddly set up much like the Gryffindor common room. He watched as the flames flickered and danced, yawning and slowly lying down on the couch. His eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

Something soft rubbed against Harry's face. _Hedwig_, the not fully conscious wizard thought. A wet nose touched his cheek and then he felt something padding against his chest, a soft rumbling noise confusing his tired brain.

"Ow!" Harry cried out, his eyes opening when he felt claws flex and push against bare skin. He looked into oddly familiar green eyes. A brownish, red cat with short fur was sitting on his chest, with its head cocked to the side as it stared at him.

Harry reached out a hand and the cat nipped at one of his fingers. "What was that for?" he asked, not sure what the animal wanted and afraid he'd get scratched if he pushed it off.

"She wants fed and she thinks she can threaten you into it," the words floated over to Harry. "Neytiri, off," came a clipped order. The feline let out an angry chirp before jumping off Harry's chest and loping over to the doorway towards the voice.

Harry sat up slowly, he blinked away the tiredness from his eyes. "What time is it?" he asked as he ran his hands through his hair, trying to gather himself.

"Almost noon. You slept okay, then?" Draco asked curiously. Harry stood and stretched. The surprised blond watched lean muscles lengthen and then flex. _He's in much better shape than I would have assumed._ Draco's eyes widened in shock at his own thoughts and he looked away quickly.

"Actually, I did. I don't think I had any dreams. _Odd_," he said, rubbing the sensitive skin where the cat had just scratched him, not noticing the other wizard's discomfort over his current state of undress.

Draco looked down and shook his head at his cat who had been prepared to grab the leg of his slacks with her claws before responding. "Yes, you did. You just don't remember them. Unless you had a seizure recently. Which, honestly, would explain a lot," Draco said bluntly.

Harry blinked.

"I think I like you better as my Healer," Harry said dryly. He looked down at the sound of a meow. The small oriental-looking feline was rolling on her back in front of a smiling Draco, exposing her belly which was a lighter shade than the rest of her body.

"You have a cat?" he blurted in his surprise at seeing the wizard interact with an animal in a civil manner.

"Fine. I'll feed you. Go on," he said in an amused tone and motioned for it to leave. The cat jumped up immediately at the words and ran at a mad sprint from the room and towards the kitchen.

Draco looked up at Harry abruptly. "I find that question offensive, Potter," he said shortly before turning and walking out of the suite.

* * *

Harry walked into a room with bookshelves covering three of the walls. He was trying to find the kitchen, but had the feeling he was only getting further away if the sniggers from the paintings were anything to go by.

"I've never met such mean-spirited artwork before," he grumbled to himself, as he eyed the fourth wall, which was entirely covered by a painting of a field which appeared pleasantly void of anything that would mock him. He turned away and looked at all the books lining the walls. _How many libraries does Malfoy need? _He had passed two other in his search so far.

"Ah, so Master Malfoy has finally found himself a new wizard. Hopefully you will last longer than the last few."

Harry spun around, startled. He found himself face to face with a giant basilisk painting.

"Poor choice though I see. You're scared by just a little hiss. You'll never do."

"I'm _not_ scared. I just didn't expect someone to start talking is all," Harry replied indignantly.

The giant snake cocked its head to the side. "You can understand me?"

"Unfortunately," Harry said simply, shocked to find himself talking to a basilisk. He forced back the memories trying to push themselves to the forefront of his mind from Hogwarts.

"A parslemouth... Perhaps you _will do_. Master Malfoy is in need of good company, and I can't say that I disapprove of a wizard with your talent. It makes things much more interesting. I wonder if your children could possibly inherit it," the giant snake hissed excitedly, its unnerving eyes growing wider.

Harry swallowed hard as the words settled in. _Wait. Children? Is Draco.._ "Did you say _wizard_? Don't you mean witch?" he asked, as he held back a shiver when the snake lowered its head and looked straight into his eyes. It let out a loud hissing noise. It was laughing.

"I certainly do _not_."

"Potter?" The wizard spun around to see Draco with a peculiar look on his face, standing in the doorway.

"Ah yes. I'm sorry. I got lost and ended up in here. And-"

"-That's fine. You were talking to it?" Draco asked, walking into the room as he gestured to the painting, a barely concealed look of excitement in his eyes.

"Ah yes. I mean. It was talking to _me_. Snakes are really nosy and pushy actually." Harry found himself rambling. _Has Draco ever dated a witch? I don't remember a specific one from school. _

Draco let out a laugh. "Must be why they are the animal for Slytherin." He looked up at the painting curiously. "Do you talk to them often?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I try to ignore them. I know it's really strange," he said, the giant snake's words still running through his mind. _How did I not know that? Maybe it was lying. Although paintings don't usually lie. _

Draco shot him an incredulous look. "_Strange_? Harry, do you know how _thrilled_ my family would have been if I had been a parslemouth?"

Harry looked up at him in surprise, forgetting his conversation with the basilisk for a moment. "So.. It doesn't bother you at all?"

Draco laughed. "Why would it bother me?" he paused, looking up at the painted basilisk, and asked in a hesitant voice, "What was it saying to you?"

The snake hissed, "Tell him you must start reproducing right away."

Harry coughed. "Ah, well.. It just. You see, it.. I'll just be leaving." Harry turned abruptly and began to walk away, not sure where he was going, his head spinning from the revelation.

"We'll talk later! I'll find you!" the painting hissed eagerly.

Harry quickened his step and hissed back, "Please don't."

Draco watched curiously as the still barely-clad man practically ran from the room. _Oh yes_. "I'll have clothes sent to your room!" he called after the departing wizard.

"It's not my room!" The angry retort elicited a smile from the blond wizard.

He looked up at the excited basilisk painting once more. It almost looked like it was smiling at him as it hissed persistently.

Draco had only heard parslemouth one other time and it was during a sparring match with said Gryffindor. _It's actually quite pleasing to the ear,_ Draco mused, the smile playing at his mouth growing wider as he walked from the library.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** We own nothing.

**AUTHORS' NOTE: Hey everyone! We're baaaack! Enjoy! :-D**

* * *

"Maybe Harry Potter could wear this?" A petite elf held up an outfit that looked like something Draco would wear himself, a pair of charcoal slacks and a dark purple, almost black, shirt.

The blond studied the pieces critically before shaking his head in disapproval. He walked into the wardrobe himself and began to sift through the clothing.

"Thats not really his style," Draco said, pulling out a green button-down before frowning and placing it back. "He tends more towards the frumpy, homeless look. Think of something you'd wear."

The small elf gasped and took a shaky step back. "Hoopy does not, cannot wear wizard clothes! Hoopy is - sorry! Sorry for suggesting the wrong thing!" the house elf wailed in distress, throwing up her hands to cover her face. "Hoopy will find something suitable for Mister Harry Potter to wear, she will!"

"Here," Draco said abruptly, ignoring his house elf's breakdown. "These slacks and this jumper. It'll bring out the green in his eyes." Draco's eyes widened. _Wait. What? I shouldn't picture Ha-Potter in clothes... I mean-no-yes, in his clothes. Always in his clothes_.

The blond wizard felt his chest clench in anxiety and said in a strained voice, "_Here,_ take this to him. "

The elf timidly approached to take the clothing, fearing it would free her despite its intent for the visiting wizard. Draco's hand remained outstretched once emptied, not noticing when the elf disappeared in a pop.

* * *

Harry walked briskly into his room, shut the door behind him and checked that his paintings were basilisk free. _Thank Merlin_.

Harry let out an unhinged laugh before he began pacing. _Draco is bent? How did I not notice before? Then again, how would I have noticed? Did he ever date in school? I know people who are. I'm friends with Luna and she is. Why does it matter? I've never cared before. It's not like he's going to make a pass at me. _The wizard froze and looked down at his exposed chest, wishing then more than anything that he was in the habit of sleeping with a top. _I've been walking around his house in my pyjamas. He's going to think I'm hitting on him! Wait. No. Draco would never think of me in that way, and he definitely wouldn't be attracted to me. Why am I even worrying?_ Harry let out a relieved laugh before a loud noise outside his room surprised him.

"Mister Potter? Hoopy has brought you things. Hoopy is sorry if it does not look homely enough."

Harry frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the shaking elf's apology. "That's all right. Thank you, Hoopy," he said, reaching out a hand to take the clothes.

* * *

Draco sat at the island counter in the Malfoy kitchen. He took a large bite of ice cream, his teeth clinking on the golden spoon. "I can't believe I'm attracted to Harry Potter. The _Chosen One_." He started to laugh. _How disgustingly predictable of you Draco. Everyone likes Harry, except you. But not anymore. Potter. Not Harry. Potter. Not that I should dislike him now, I'm his Healer. But, I definitely should not be attracted to him. I'll just stop that right now. Yes._ The wizard took another comforting bite, trying not to focus on the fact that he knew that wasn't exactly how things worked.

Harry walked into the kitchen. "Found it!" the wizard whispered victoriously, startling Draco from his thoughts. The dark-haired wizard gave him an unfriendly look. "Your kitchen is ridiculously hard to find. Are you eating _ice cream_?"

Draco took a spiteful bite. "Yes, do you have a _problem_ with that, Potter? Does the _Chosen One_ not eat ice cream? Think you're too good for it?" he asked, taking out his frustration on the wizard.

Harry looked shocked. "_No,_" He paused, his jaw clenching when Draco took another bite. "I just hate when people eat in front of me." Draco took another bite. "Especially since I haven't even had breakfast. All I've been able to find is my guest room _repeatedly_ and a basilisk painting who wanted to tell me secrets."

Draco blinked, his spoon freezing on the way to his mouth. _Secrets? Oh, wait maybe I should be using this time more properly_. The wizard took another bite and talked around it, his manners dropped for the time being to encourage the emotion further he had elicited. "When's the first time you noticed feeling that way, Harry?"

Harry grew noticeably more agitated, his fists clenching by his sides and yelled back, "Oh, I don't know, _Draco_! Probably when my aunt and uncle would punish me and wouldn't let me eat for an entire week, but I still had to cook and clean up for them and my _fat_ cousin." Harry stopped suddenly, his eyes wide with the realization he had said too much and his gaze flitted toward the doorway as he considered leaving.

Draco lowered his spoon slowly, and stood up quietly, his expression unreadable. "Have a seat." The blond walked around the counter and pulled out a drawer.

Harry glared at the proffered seat. "Why. So you can analyze me?"

Draco turned around and placed a spoon and bowl in front of him. "No, so you can have some ice cream, too," he said, his tone mollifying.

Harry dropped into the seat, surprise and guilt warring for control over his facial expressions. "Oh.. What flavor is it?"

"Pistachio and honey," Draco answered, walking over to the freezer and pulling out two pints of ice cream. "I also have Mexican chocolate. Or I could make you an omelette if you're feeling reckless."

Harry pulled the spoon and bowl closer, too shocked to notice the joke. "Really?"

Draco gave an amused smirk. "No, I'm lying. I don't plan on feeding you while you are here at all. Of course, really."

Harry looked up from the spoon he was gripping a little too tightly. "Uh, ice cream's fine."

Draco set down the two containers and Harry reached for the chocolate flavor. He opened it and began to carefully scoop it into his bowl. "The clothing you sent me, it's a little small," he said in an unsure tone, placing the lid back on.

Draco laughed and took another bite having just sat back down. "It's called _fitted_, and you wear it like that to..." His words dropped off.

Harry stopped eating and looked over to the surprisingly hesitant wizard. "To what?"

Draco cleared his throat. "It's just how people dress."

Harry noticed the wizard's discomfort and felt suddenly like he needed to get away from the not-quite Draco sitting beside him. "I think I need a drink."

Draco stared into his ice cream. "Water's over there. In the sink. Obviously."

Harry walked over and poured himself a glass before leaving the kitchen while Draco stared at his empty bowl.

"Although sometimes obvious things aren't so obvious. Are they?" He asked, mumbling to himself and finding he didn't care about being so redundant. _It's no big deal. So I noticed that he's technically attractive. I only didn't notice before because I had an unhealthy level of anger pent up towards him. So, now I just feel neutral. Yes. completely and inconsequentially neutral._ "Do you know where the glasses are?"

Draco looked up when he received no response. "Potter?"

* * *

_The Next Day_

Draco peered into an empty guest room. He walked in and looked around the seemingly barely used space. The bed had been made, clearly by Harry, because the house elves had instructions to not enter the room unless called upon. _It seems he didn't need to sleep on the couch last night,_ the wizard noted as he walked over to a table, situated by the glass doors with a tray placed on it. He lifted the lid to the dinner tray he had sent to Harry's room when he didn't come out to eat.

_"Tea will be ready shortly." Draco stood stiffly at the doorway and watched Harry pace from one side of the room to the other._

_"No, thank you."_

_Draco arched a platinum eyebrow as the black-haired wizard began to mutter to himself. "Have you eaten?"_

_Harry stopped, a confused look crossing his face. "What?"_

_"I don't know how to make that any more clear, Potter," Draco drawled._

_Harry took a step forward. "I'll eat when I get home, thank you," he said shortly, ignoring the discomfort in his stomach from only having eaten ice cream._

_Draco's eyebrow raised higher. "Suit yourself." The blond wizard turned to leave the room._

_"Wait, uh, Malfoy," Harry spoke up, stopping the wizard. "Thank you for the clothes earlier. I didn't mean, well, they're fine," he said hesitantly to Draco's back. The tall wizard nodded and walked off._

_Draco snapped his fingers together once as he strode down the hallway._

_A loud pop announced the presence of one of the kitchen elves, who began to jog alongside his fast-paced walk._

_"Squeaky is here to serve, Master Malfoy."_

_Draco rolled his eyes. "Make sure to have a portion sent to Mister Potter's room for tea."_

_"Yes, Master Malfoy! Squeaky will do just that!" Another loud pop left Draco alone once more as he made his way to his office._

Draco stared down at the half eaten chicken breast and picked over vegetables on the plate. "He must need to eat more than that." _He looks in decent shape, so he can't always eat so sparingly, perhaps he just didn't like the spices used._ He lowered the lid and peered out the glass doors. Movement caught his eye in the distance and he opened the door and stepped out.

"Potter, what _are _you doing out there?" he called out to the wizard who was standing at least a hundred yards away and appeared to be staring at the tree line, his back to the manor. The wizard frowned when Harry didn't respond but instead lifted a bottle of sorts to his lips.

Draco cursed. "The liquor. _Shit_." He looked over the edge and considered hopping down, but decided against it. It was a few yards at least to the ground below. "Accio firebolt 3000." A broom flew into his outstretched hand a few moments later, and he straddled it but froze just before taking off. "Accio firebolt 2001," he said with a crooked smirk and took off with the slower broom in tow.

"Potter, didn't you ever learn that it's bad manners to take your host's alcohol without asking first?"

Harry let out a surprised gasp and looked up to see Draco grinning down at him as he hovered only a few feet out of his reach.

"What is this?" Harry asked shortly, motioning wildly at the air in front of him with his free hand.

Draco raised a single eyebrow slowly and didn't respond.

"I said, what the hell is this, Malfoy! And if you say _air_, I swear. I'll.."

Draco lowered himself to the ground silently and then climbed off his broom. "It's a magical shield to keep you from leaving the premises," he answered simply, successfully curbing his natural response to goad the wizard.

Harry frowned and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I don't want to stay here any longer. I feel fine. It was just another bad dream. People have night terrors. So if you could just lower the shield please," he said in a forced polite voice, sounding every bit an auror, as he motioned at the space in front of him.

Draco sighed wearily. "I can't do that."

"Why the hell not!"

"There's no need to yell."

Harry started laughing, disbelief darkening his tone. "Oh, right. Right. _You_ were yelling just last night if I remember correctly!"

Draco's face quirked into one of guilt before it cleared almost instantly. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that. But everyone loses their temper at times. Anger is a natural emotion. I appreciate having my personal space," he explained, trying to not remember Harry waking him up by apparating snugly beside him for the second night in a row.

"Well, _good_! Then you should understand that _I _don't appreciate being trapped! Now let me out!" Harry picked up a rock and pitched it. The wizard let out a growl when it sailed easily through the air and landed on the other side. "Of course!" The wizard's laughter took on an unhinged quality. Draco watched Harry take a swig of alcohol before leaning down and picking up another rock to continue his tantrum.

Draco spoke in just a loud enough voice to be heard over Harry's yells as the angry wizard proceeded to throw anything he could get in his hands, excepting the bottle of alcohol, through the patient specific barrier. "Potter, would you care to have a fly with me?"

Harry stopped, dropping the fistful of grass he had just been about to launch through the air and turned towards him. "I'm sorry?"

Draco held up the extra broom he had brought with him and pointed at the still mostly full bottle in Harry's hand. "I'll trade you."

Harry looked down at the firewhiskey in his hand, his eyes alighting on it in a manner that suggested he hadn't even realized he had been holding it, despite drinking from it. "Oh, yeah... I don't usually drink," Harry said, biting his lip apprehensively.

Draco nodded, surprising himself that he took the wizard's word so readily. He usually questioned his patient's every word, especially when it pertained to the use of addictive substances. "Even more reason to trade it then."

Harry stared at the bottle for another moment, his face one of ambivalence as he eyed the mind-numbing drink. _It would be so much easier_.

Draco noticed the hesitance. "What's wrong, _Potter_? Worried you can't compete with me anymore?" he asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone.

Harry's head jerked up, his eyes steeled. "You're on."

* * *

**:-)**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** We own nothing.

**AUTHORS' NOTE: Hey everyone! It's been a very long time, and this is a short chapter, but an important short chapter. Please enjoy. :-D**

* * *

Draco landed, hopping off his broom before it had stopped all the way. The two wizards had competed for the past hour, chasing a snitch. Harry had unsurprisingly beaten him three out of four of the times.

"Great game, Harry!" he said enthusiastically as he stepped towards the wizard to shake his hand. He hadn't had any real competition since Hogwarts and that had been from the talented wizard as well.

Harry stood, his face flushed from the exertion, his dark hair windswept perfectly and vivid green eyes impossibly bright.

"You too. You've improved," Harry said in a breathless voice from the rather intense flying. Despite being head auror, he hadn't been flying for almost a year.

Draco grinned. "Thanks. You haven't," he said, not adding that he didn't think it actually possible. He had never known a more talented flyer. He licked his chapped laps and noticed Harry's eyes follow the motion. A reckless feeling moved the blond another step closer, leaving less than a foot between them. He felt his already speeding pulse pound faster.

"And yet I still beat you," Harry said, his chest tightening inexplicably as he noticed how close they were. He felt the need to move away but took an unconscious step forward instead, the uncomfortable feeling moving to his stomach as he noted the wizard's bright grey eyes.

Draco quirked a smile at the wizard's fiery attitude. His usually over active brain seemed to come to a grinding halt as he leaned down and pressed his lips against Harry's. The dark-haired wizard let out a surprised noise, that was muffled against the taller wizard's lips, but didn't move away. Draco took the reaction as encouragement and moved his hands up, cupping Harry's face, and ran his tongue along his lips.

Harry's eyes popped open, and he pushed Draco away. He stared in shock at him, the blond wizard's face mirroring his own. _Draco Malfoy kissed me_! He started to reach a hand up to touch his lips, but stopped.

"What was that?" Harry demanded.

Draco blinked, for once speechless as he tried to answer the question for himself. He swallowed hard. _I just kissed Harry Potter._

"Malfoy, what the hell was that!" he yelled, growing increasingly agitated as confusion whirled angrily in his mind.

Draco shook his head slightly and his glazed eyes cleared. "Oh right. I am your healer. That was inappropriate of me," he said, not sure if he was displeased or happy with the wizard's response. _Why did I just do that_?

"No, not _that_! I don't, I don't kiss _guys_, Malfoy. I'm not gay!"

Draco looked surprised. "But I thought... I mean. You gave me _the look_."

"The look!" Harry choked on the words. "That's, that's because we were flying!"

Draco raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I see. So you're saying you're not attracted to me?"

Harry took a step back. "No. I mean yes. I mean no." Harry let out a growl of frustration. "I'm _not_ into wizards. I'm, I'm not."

"Sorry." Draco raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. "I must have misread you."

"Why do you say it like that?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and taking a defensive posture.

"Well, it's just... Didn't you and Cedric Diggory sort of have a _thing_?"

"What! _No_! Who told you that?"

Draco tilted his head as he thought. "Everyone was saying it really. You know, because you two were so buddy buddy, and you got really upset when he started dating Cho Chang."

Harry's mouth dropped open before shutting it back firmly. "Because I liked _Cho_."

Draco nodded. "Really. Did you _really_ like her? Then why didn't you end up dating? Because it was very obvious she liked you."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Well. I changed my mind. She cried a lot." He looked away and muttered under his breath. "Especially when we kissed."

Draco frowned. He didn't know what to make of that comment. "But you were awfully upset after he died," he persisted.

Harry's head jerked back. "Yeah. Because he _died_! Right in front of me. _Because_ of me."

Draco's eyes narrowed with concern. "How was that _your_ fault?"

Harry threw his hands up. "Because _I_ was the only one supposed to touch the tournament cup, but I told Cedric to touch it at the same time, so we could share the win. "I told him 'you deserve it too' and then he died! _He died_!"

Draco pushed his lips together. "You think you could have known that? You think that it was truly your fault?"

"I should have! It was! It's all, all of it was my fault!" Harry yelled before dropping to his knees and then falling back to sit on the ground and cover his face with his hands. "Everyone who died... I _should_ have saved them."

Draco sat down beside him and spoke quietly, "No it wasn't, you were just one person. You couldn't save them all. Nobody blames you, Harry."

Harry lifted his head and looked straight ahead, a hard look on his face. "Well they should. I do. What's so great about being the _chosen one_ if you can't even save those closest to you? People died because of me. Remus and Sirius..."

Draco placed a reassuring hand on the upset wizard's back. "They died because we were in a war, and they chose to fight just like you did. Do you think they expected you to protect them? Do you think they blame you for it?"

Harry sighed and looked down at his clasped hands. "No, they'd probably agree with you."

Draco nodded, his hand dropping. "Would you blame them if it had happened the other way around?"

Harry held his breath and sat for a few minutes before saying quietly, "No, I wouldn't. Ever."

"Then why do you think they would? Do you think that's the type of people they were?" Draco asked.

"No!" Harry shouted before calming down again. "I just. I just miss them, and I feel so very bad."

"Everyone feels bad Harry. That's normal. A lot of terrible things happened. But it doesn't make it your fault anymore than it's anyone else's fault. Everyone did their best, and you did the most by far. That doesn't mean you were perfect, nor should you punish yourself for not being. You're just a person."

Harry sat silently, wondering when Draco had started to make so much sense. He looked down at his feet as he tried to block out the memory of their kiss, a flush creeping up his neck, belying his words from earlier. _I'm a complete mess_. He ran his hands up into his hair, rubbing them roughly through his messy mop as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

"Listen, Harry. I shouldn't have.. done what I did. I apologize. It won't happen again," Draco said, ignoring the disturbing fact that he had enjoyed their kiss way too much. He looked away and trained his gaze on his house.

Harry nodded, not speaking.

Draco stood up, brushing the grass off his slacks. He looked down at the green-eyed wizard. "Let's make something to eat," he said.

Harry looked up surprised at the wizard's offer. "You can cook?"

Draco laughed. "You really do ask the most offensive questions. Come on, Potter."

* * *

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